The Vectors Part 1
by JadedWarlord
Summary: This is a short story that I wrote based in a fictional world that I envisioned. I have not based my work on any published works, and so my story is all of my own. It is a mix of crime, western, and fantasy genres. It includes mature language and violence, so reader discretion is advised. Please post a comment if you read this, telling me what you thought of this story. Thanks.
1. Chapter 1

The Vectors – Part 1

An icy gust of wind ripped through the damp February night. It rippled the trench coat that Justin was wearing, slicing its way through the thin material to send a chill running down his spine. He reached up and pulled his coat closed, buttoned it hurriedly, tied a quick knot in the coat's cloth belt, and then flipped up the collar for good measure. Shrugging, he leaned back against the alley wall where he had been standing, all the while never taking his eyes off of the doorway across the deserted city street. He knew such measures would do little against the bite of this winter cold, especially while wearing a cheap and tattered coat like this. Ever since he had been kicked off of the police force a few months back, money had been growing mighty thin, along with his clothing. He shivered once more as the wind blew again as if in contempt of his meager protection against it.

But soon all that would change. He would show them all that Ol' Judge Justin wasn't crazy. He hadn't hallucinated that night like everyone kept saying he had. Sure, he had had a few swigs of whiskey while on the stakeout, but that was only to help stave off the damned cold. It definitely hadn't been the first time, and many times he had even drunken more than he had that night. No, he knew that what he had seen had really happened. He knew that he had seen that THING rip Jenkins apart and….

He closed his eyes and shook his head violently in an effort to rid his mind of the horrific images that sprang there. Those scenes had also invaded his dreams of late, making sleep a sporadic and frantic thing at best. Jenkins had been his partner and friend for over four years, and had been a damn good cop at that. After that night though, Justin had been blamed for his death, even though no one had come right out and accused him to his face. The body had never been found… well most of it hadn't anyway. There definitely had been a lot of blood. He had been expelled from the force on grounds of mental instability soon after.

His right hand instinctively slipped to the .44 magnum that he had in his coat pocket. He took the grip in a vice-like hold, drawing comfort from its cool, solid presence. That gun had saved him that night, and it would help him set things right. That bastard had to die for what he did!

He opened his eyes once more, focusing once again on that doorway across the street. With a jerk, he realized that it was standing open, and that the very man he had been waiting for had stepped out and was standing there gazing up and down the street. He was a thin man with a rat-like face and eyes that always seemed to be darting about. He was known on the street as The Dart, and whether that was in an effort to describe the motion of his eyes, his meager frame, or his manner of movement, Justin didn't know. Justin eased himself farther back into the alley's deep shadows in an effort to remain hidden from The Dart's constantly searching gaze. After a moment, the man turned and headed north down the road at a brisk pace, looking back over his shoulder from time to time. Knowing that he would be difficult to successfully tail, Justin gave him a bit of a lead before stealthily following.

He took his time in tracking The Dart. It had been weeks since he had seen the ratty little man, and he was the only connection that Justin had to that awful night. There was no way that Justin would lose him now, not after so much effort had been spent tracking him down. After looking first this way and then that, The Dart turned down one of the alleyways up ahead, disappearing into the shadows within. Justin picked up the pace, jogging down the street and to one side of the mouth into the alleyway, and then carefully leaned around the edge of the wall to peer with one eye into the alley's shadows. He just caught sight of The Dart turning yet another corner farther down. The chase continued.

Word on the street was that The Dart never slept in the same place twice nowadays, always afraid of being found. No surprise, since it was The Dart that had been negotiating an arms deal with the Vector Enforcer that night everything went to hell. When Justin and Jenkins busted in to spring the sting operation they had set up for the deal, no doubt that Vector Enforcer got the impression that The Dart had been in on the whole thing. Ever since then, The Dart has been a hunted man. Those on the street said he had a mark out on him from the Vectors. No one would dare give him shelter or even kill him, and so the man had been squatting in one abandoned building after another, constantly on the move, surviving on what moldy scraps he was able to find in the city dumpsters. Justin noticed that his face had become drawn and sallow and that his eyes had a sunken appearance, giving The Dart a frantic and haunted look.

After what that Enforcer had done to Jenkins that night, Justin knew that there was ample reason to be running scared. He himself had found his eyes beginning to drift from side to side more often, always on the lookout for those dark shadows flitting at the edge of his periphery. He knew that they could have killed him long ago, since they left a message for him in his apartment not long after that night. It had been a message written in blood… his partner's blood. It had also been what was left of Jenkins's head that he had found on his pillow, with that expression of horror and surprise forever etched onto his slack features, under that message scrawled on the wall:

WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE…

Justin shook his head once more, stumbling as he continued his dogged pursuit of that nervous figure in the distance. There was no use trying to convince the police department of what he had seen. He simply had to make sure that it wouldn't happen again. That was why some had called him the Judge while he was on the force, after some bullshit sci-fi cop who also raised a heavy hand against evil on the street. And then after the deed was done, maybe he could come into some evidence that would prove what he had seen that night. Up ahead, The Dart once again turned down another alleyway, and Justin repeated his careful approach. This time however, as Justin slowly leaned in for a look, he spied The Dart pausing in front of a doorway that led into a derelict apartment building, long since condemned and abandoned. After another paranoid look at his gloomy surroundings, the little man pried the door open and stepped inside.

So this was his next sanctuary for the night, eh? Justin too took a little time to look around. It was definitely located in one of the most rundown and seedy parts of town, somewhere that most men would sooner avoid at night than not. That chill breeze stirred once more from behind him, rustling some trash that had been thrown haphazardly against an alley wall. He shivered, hunching his shoulders, and turned to walk back towards the doorway, when a quick motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. It had come from down the street about a block away, at the edge of the meager light of a streetlamp flickering in the night.

Whirling around in that direction, he felt an icy chill claw its way down his spine, a sensation that was not caused by the night cold. The gun materialized in his hand, covering that part of the street steadily despite the sinking feeling that grew in the pit of his stomach. His eyes squinted to peer into the darkness surrounding that halo of yellowed light under the lamp. Nothing moved but a scrap of paper that blew lazily in the wind. All was deathly silent, save for his heavy breathing.

After a few moments of continued searching, Justin slowly lowered his gun and reluctantly returned it to his pocket. It must have been one of the millions of stray alley cats that infested this part of the city. He brought a shaky hand up to his face and peered out from between his shivering fingers. It had been too many nights since his last good sleep. Too many nights of waking up screaming from fevered nightmares of blood and violent death. He had to keep his cool. He was so close to finally setting things right. Once he questioned The Dart, he would know how and where to find the Vectors and make those freaks pay.

He chuckled nervously to himself. Even the stories he had been hearing on the streets for years about the Vectors couldn't compare to what he himself had witnessed that night. Like their namesake, the Vectors were a highly secretive society of criminals that had moved into the city and spread like a virus, completely wiping out many of the native city gangs in the process. The damn thing was that they themselves were almost never seen, and those that did see them were all left too terrified to talk about it afterwards. The Vectors had very quickly muscled their way into a position of supreme power within the arms trade, as well as drug trafficking, prostitution, and gambling houses. In order to maintain their anonymity, they had salvaged a few of the local gangs and had set them up as a front for their organization, running their dirty operations for the public. In exchange for their lives, these gangs forwarded almost all of the proceeds from these venues to the Vectors through a middleman. The Dart had been one of these middlemen and had been discussing a proposed arms deal with one of the Vector Enforcers the night Justin and his partner had tried to bust them.

But one thing as very clear to all: Everyone who opposed or failed the Vectors died, and messily. The remains of those unfortunate souls were often left in public, as a reminder to others of the folly of their ways. As far as he knew, he and The Dart were the only ones who had ran afoul of Vector Enforcers and still drew breath. The only reason he was alive had to be due to his long standing position and reputation on the police force. The Dart, on the other hand, was a goner if they caught him. It was only because of that little creep's intense paranoia and luck that he had survived this long. But maybe it was because of Justin's luck too, since now he had found The Dart and would be able to question him tonight. With that thought, Justin turned once more towards the doorway in the alley, and walked towards it with renewed determination.

Reaching the door, Justin pulled it slowly open, careful to avoid making a sound in the still night air. The foreboding darkness that welcomed him from beyond the doorframe did not bode well to him, but he was too close to his goal to stop now. He withdrew the .44 once more and stepped inside. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness within, Justin held his breath while listening for any movement within the gloom. His ears detected movement from the floor above him, and by now he could make out a stairwell a little ways down the entry hall. He tread cat-like across the floorboards, the big gun tracing its way around the room along with his eyes, testing each step before he placed it in an effort to avoid any rickety floor tiles that might betray his presence in the building. He did the same to each step on the stairwell during his careful ascent to the second floor, pausing often to listen carefully in the dark.

At the top of the stairs, he spied the meager light from a small fire that had been started in one of the empty apartments near the head of the stairs. It flickered across the hallway, casting menacing shadows from the various debris that littered both the floor and walls of the filthy building. No doubt The Dart was settling in for the night, attempting to fight the winter chill by building a fire from some of the trash that filled the place. The rustle of movement could be heard within the room, coupled with an occasional silhouetted shadow as The Dart moved around his fire. Justin brought his gun up in front of his face, sighted down the barrel, crouched, and made his way stealthily from the head of the stairs to one side of the apartment door.

Just as he was about to lean in to get a look inside, his toe brushed an old coke bottle on the floorboards, sending it rolling noisily down the hall. Flinching, Justin heard a sharp intake of breath from inside the apartment, followed immediately by the cocking of a gun. Before another conscious thought crossed his mind, Justin's survival instincts took control, launching his body across the doorframe towards the wall on the opposite side. Everything began playing in slow motion and the taste of adrenaline rose in his mouth. Bullets exploded through the flimsy sheetrock where his head had been a mere fraction of a second before, followed shortly thereafter by multiple reports from The Dart's screaming handgun that was tracing a path of destruction towards his flying body.

Justin turned in midair to face through the doorway, brought his own hand cannon up to bare, and cut loose with an explosive volley of return fire. His eyes locked with those of The Dart's, and he saw the dawn of recognition light amid the pure panic that was emblazoned upon his gaunt visage. He saw one of his own bullets find their mark, blowing a massive and ragged hole through The Dart's lower left leg. The Dart's head rolled back into a scream of agony, his firing arm splayed wide to the side, emptying the rest of his gun into the ceiling and walls above his head. Justin then passed the threshold, landing on his side on the floor, and continued firing through the wall at knee level into the apartment until the firing pin on his revolver clicked into a hollow chamber and he was out of shots. The sound of The Dart's screams continued for a while, and then lowered to a frantic whimper.

"You fucking cop! You've killed me! You've killed me!"

Justin picked himself up off of the floor, expelling the empty brass from his revolver and thumbing fresh rounds into the revolving chambers methodically and automatically. His gun reloaded, Justin pointed it through the doorway and looked inside at The Dart laying sprawled and bleeding on the apartment floor. His leg below the knee was a ragged mess of blood and torn meat and bone, and he was clutching at it in a frantic effort to stop the bleeding. His gun had fallen forgotten and empty to the floor beside him. Keeping the crook covered with his own gun, Justin pulled off his trench coat belt with one hand and tossed it contemptuously to the whimpering man.

"Here, tie it on your leg tight above the knee to stop the bleeding. Tighter! You don't have the luxury of dying just yet. I want some answers, and I want them now!"

After tying the belt on his leg with trembling hands and a rasping groan, The Dart's now-pale face turned up to look at Justin and the gun barrel that was pointed at him. He drew another breath and growled from between teeth that were clenched in pain:

"I'm not going to die from this, you pig… but if those THINGS find me like this, I'm as good as dead. You fucking cop! It's your fault they're after me, you and that wet-behind-the-ears rookie that got himself killed."

Justin's vision grew red with anger at the mention of Jenkins, and he swiftly lunged forward to plant his shoe savagely on The Dart's leg wound, while simultaneously swinging the butt of his gun at the man's head. Both blows connected, one with a crack and the other with a squish, but both were followed by yet another scream from the injured man as he fell backwards to thrash on the dirty apartment floor.

"Don't you dare mention my partner, you sniveling rat! It was you who fired first and started that whole nightmare, just like tonight. And now it will be you who's going to tell me where to find those Vector bastards so that I can kill them for what they have done!"

He reached down to grab the shirt collar of the screaming man and jerked him upright once more. He jammed to gun against the man's cheek, pressing the barrel ruthlessly into what little flesh remained there. Only, to his surprise, the screams coming from the broken man suddenly turned into a choked and fevered laughing, and The Dart's eyes once again locked with Justin's, wild and full of fear and pain.

"KILL THEM?" he screamed. His voice was beginning to crack in his hysteria.

"You can't kill THEM, you fool! THEY aren't even human! THEY are…."

The Dart's eyes flickered past Justin's head and into the doorway of the apartment behind him. His eyes drew so far open that it appeared they would roll right out of his skull, and his angry words caught in his throat. That was all the warning Justin got…

Before his instincts could once again spring him into action, something huge and hard as steel struck him in the small of the back, launching him up and over The Dart and across the room to slam upside down against the far wall. Pain exploded across his body, and he crumpled into a heap on the floor. His gun had landed a few feet to the side of him, but it might as well have been miles away. His limbs felt useless, and his vision blurred uncontrollably. The ceiling danced impossibly above him, and the whole room seemed to be spinning erratically as well. He struggled to look back towards the doorway, pain lancing through his neck and back at the effort. He could make out multiple big figures entering the room, though he found it hard to focus his eyes on any one of them. He realized he could hear The Dart's screams once more through the pain that clouded his senses. He struggled to hear what was being said and to focus his eyesight enough to see clearly again. A deep, rumbling bass voice was speaking.

Justin made out:

"…fool led us right to him. Kraven was right in letting him live. This slithering scum would have been quite bothersome to track down otherwise. Now we can finish the job."

Justin's vision cleared in time to see one of the figures reach down to grasp The Dart's throat in one of its massive hands, and raise him effortlessly into the air, choking off the man's screams to a bubbling gurgle. The Dart's feet were a full three feet above the floor, his shattered leg dangling limply from his body while the other one kicked frantically like an animal caught in a trap. His hands worked fruitlessly against the man's grip around his throat. Justin's eyes traced their way from The Dart to the man holding him aloft. When his gazed landed on the massive man's face, the blood ran cold in his veins.

It was the very same Vector Enforcer that had been there that night, the same man who had killed Jenkins, Justin's partner. Only, that couldn't be the case, since Justin had shot that man in the face that night with a hot-loaded .44 magnum round. He had clearly seen that man's right eye explode in a spray of bone fragments and gore, halting his attack on Justin and buying him just enough time to retreat through a glass paned window. Only there he was, face intact, holding a gurgling man aloft in front of him. How the hell…?

Now there wasn't just one, but five Vector Enforcers in the room, all massive and all armed with heavy automatic pistols with silencer attachments. These men were here to kill them both, wipe them out quietly, and disappear like the Vectors were so very well known to do. Turning his head to the right, he caught sight of his gun lying on the floor a couple feet away, and willed his arms into action. Reaching out towards it slowly, he turned his head once more to watch the men at the entrance to the room. None were looking at him, no doubt thinking him unconscious or dead from the blow that had sent him flying. They all had their attentions fixed on The Dart, all with an expression that Justin could only describe as hungered anticipation painted on their broad faces.

The one holding The Dart spoke up again:

"Now we'll see if there are any others we need to kill in order to clean this situation up."

Turning The Dart around in his grip, he placed his other hand on the back of the small man's skull, enveloping the back of The Dart's head in a gargantuan hold, his huge fingers splaying over The Dart's forehead and cheeks. Justin once again caught The Dart's eyes, and beheld the vacant gaze of a man doomed. With a swift, twisting motion, the Enforcer dug his nails into The Dart's head and peeled off the back of the man's skull with a sickening crunch. The Dart's eyes rolled up into his skull, his mouth went slack, tongue lolling out one side, and his struggling ceased. Justin froze in horror, his fingers now inches away from the butt of his gun, as the familiar scene played out once more.

The enforcer tossed the back of The Dart's skull, complete with the hair and scalp still attached, to one side. He then reached in and grasped the poor man's brain, ripping it from his head. Once removed, the Enforcer held the brain in front of his face, peering intently at it as though concentrating intensely, while The Dart's eyeballs dangled limply from the brain via the optic nerves that were still attached. His other hand tossed the body carelessly to one of his compatriots, who caught it deftly out of the air with another equally large hand. Another stooped to pick up the skull fragment from the floor. They weren't leaving any evidence, just like before.

The brain in the Enforcer's hand began emitting dim flickers of light, as though electricity was coursing through its grey matter. The large man closed his eyes, but they danced under his eyelids as if he were dreaming. After a few seconds, a grin spread across the Enforcer's face, and he crushed the brain within his iron grip, blood and flecks of gore steaming through his fingers to the floor below. He laughed wickedly.

"This is it boys, only the cop knows what happened now. That little rat couldn't make contact with anyone on the streets. The Order's reign of fear prevented any from even talking to him once the mark was placed on him."

His eyes popped open and slid in Justin's direction.

"…Only the cop remains now."

With a sneer, the big man whipped his hand to one side, dispelling the loose bits of brain matter still clinging to his fingers. The Dart's eyeballs rolled across the floor, one of them coming to rest and seeming to gaze emptily at Justin. The Enforcer then began moving in Justin's direction.

Justin sprang into action, lunging towards his gun and ignoring the searing protests of pain from across his body. His hand encircled the grip of his gun, and he wrenched his body into a roll that brought his feet back under him and his gun facing the enemy. Without pausing to see if the Enforcer had stopped, Justin shot the man once again in the face. The report of the gun was deafening in the close quarters of the rickety apartment, and the kickback made him grimace from the pain that it shot through his sore limbs. This time, his bullet impacted the big man's lower jaw, blowing it completely apart from his face and jerking his head back violently. His shredded tongue spilled limply from the resultant gaping maw that was left. But he didn't stop coming…

With an inhuman roar of anger and pain, the big man lowered his head once more and continued trudging in his direction. Rippling movement erupted from underneath the man's clothes, and he began changing right before Justin's eyes. His arms and chest, already of massive girth, grew in size and length, his fingers becoming razor-sharp claws that stretched impossibly far from his hands. Massive knots of muscles sprang from under his skin, doubling and then tripling his size in a second. His face twisted into a fearful vestige of humanity, with jet black eyes and slits for a nose. The massive wound on his jaw began crackling with what seemed to be some sort of energy, and healed rapidly while replacing his jaw and teeth with those of a razor-mawed monster. Totally transformed, and intact once more, the beast was now almost upon him.

Yelling with fear and loathing at the deadly creature before him, Justin began squeezing the trigger frantically, blasting away at the monster from point blank range. Screaming bullets exploded through both of the thing's knees, bringing it crashing down to the floor in front of him, dagger-like claws stretching towards his face. He then put his last two rounds squarely through the creature's roaring head, reducing it to a steaming pile of quivering, bloody flesh. The Thing's arm dropped limply to the floor with a solid thud, and began jerking spastically in the firelight.

Justin continued to pull the gun's trigger at the creature, despite the series of metallic clanks that indicated that there were no more shots left in the chamber. With a shudder, he collapsed backward against the wall, his jerking hands trying to go through the routine of reloading his gun, but to no avail. Fresh cartridges fell from his feeble grasp and rolled across the floorboards, gleaming like so much gold in the firelight, and doing him just as much good in his situation. His eyes rose from the heap of flesh in front of him to the crowd of Enforcers watching him from the other side of the room. No doubt all of them were inhuman, some sort of abomination that could rip him apart with ease and malicious pleasure. As if to confirm his suspicions, he noticed that their eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, staring at him. Then as one, they began to change…

His body grew cold, and his arms fell limply to his side. There was no way he could fell all of them, especially with only a revolver, no matter the caliber of the slugs it threw. His stomach clenched violently, squeezing the breath from his lungs. His eyes fell to the creature sprawled dead on the floor in front of him. At least he had dealt with that bastard before he died. The one who had killed his friend... As he stared, the crackle of energy began to glow amid the monster's ruined head.

"Fuck…"

With that, the other creatures roared as one and charged across the room towards him, their claws and teeth and eyes gleaming in the firelight…

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

The Vectors – Part 2

Death was upon him, hurtling in his direction with claws extended and maws agape. The ruined body on the floor in front of him was reassembling itself rapidly amid a cascade of blue flickering energy. That bastard would get back up soon, and all of this would be for nothing. His partner's killer would live to kill again. Justin clenched his jaw in frustration as a searing and intense rage began to fill the cold empty pit that was his stomach. He hated them for what they had done to his partner, as well as what they would continue to do to his city. They had to pay… they had to be stopped. Besides, he thought grimly, if he was going to be killed, he would be damned if he let these things take him without a fight.

Glancing wildly around himself, Justin spied a couple of empty glass beer bottles on the floor beside him and grabbed them both, clutching one in each hand by the neck. Springing to his feet, he smashed the two bottles together, baring the broken fragments against the coming horde of crazed monsters. By this time, all conscious thought had left his mind, replaced only by his primal instincts and an all-consuming hatred of these abominations before him. He matched their savage roars with one of his own, and flung himself headlong at the one at the head of the pack.

The beast raised one of its arms high into the air, baring a handful of razor-sharp claws each as long as a tire iron. Its eyes were as black as death itself, and its mouth sported teeth like steak knives and oozed saliva in anticipation of the kill that would surely come momentarily. It swung its arm downward with terrifying force, aiming a blow at Justin's head that would surely decapitate him if it landed. Justin reacted without thinking, ducking suddenly beneath the blow. His instincts were honed to a keen edge from years of dodging fists and return fire from his patrols on the street. The creature's swing missed by a mere fraction of an inch, its momentum sending the arm flying across the creature's body, momentarily throwing it off balance.

Justin quickly straightened back up, jumped into the air, and brought both beer bottle fragments up over his head, stabbing edges aimed downwards at the creature's face. A look of surprise flashed across the monster's almost human features. Justin brought his glass weapons down with all of his might, landing both blows on the creature's eyes. The jagged edges of the shattered bottles ripped through the monster's flesh, gouging out both eyes simultaneously and setting loose twin fountains of blood from its face. He then kicked off with both feet on the creature's forearm and chest, launching himself backwards and out of the monster's reach once more.

The creature's roar turned into a shriek of agony, and it brought its arm back in order to cover its tattered face, swinging wildly at him with the other. Its claws did not reach him, but instead slashed at its companions, who by that time were crowding behind and around it, trying desperately to get at Justin. The blows it landed flayed off huge sections of flesh from the chest and backs of several of the surrounding creatures, causing their shrieks to match the blinded one as pain spread among them. In their maddened state, they began turning on one another, ripping each other apart with blow after blow from their formidable claws and teeth. The ensuing battle was deafening with its thunderous noise, and showered the walls of the apartment room in blood and gore.

Justin paused, both bottles raised at the ready, unsure of his next course of action amidst the fray. The creatures were in a mass state of disarray, all of them drawn into the scuffle between themselves, and were doing an amazing job of obliterating one another. Limbs and large pieces of flesh littered the floor, causing some of them to trip in their struggles. His conscious thinking began to return to him, and Justin decided that now would be a good time to get out of there and plan for the next assault. He could attempt to follow one of these beasts back to its hideout, although he knew that would be a daunting task. Either way, there was not much more that he could do here, especially with only these beer bottles to fight with. He turned for the window, his only route of escape at this point.

Before he made it there, a clawed hand flashed out to grasp his lower left leg from behind, tearing the flesh of his calf instantly at its touch. Justin yelled in pain, twisting his torso in order to slash at his captor's hand. Before he could land the blow, however, another clawed hand reached up from behind him and slashed at both of his hands, ripping bloody furrows into his forearms and causing him to drop his weapons. It was the beast he had killed earlier, sprawled on its belly on the floor, its face and head now partially reconstructed, one eye raised to fix him with a murderous glare. Justin could see into its exposed cranium, its brain matter seeming to grow and form under that dance of blue energy cascading throughout it.

The monster tightened its grip on his leg and pulled its free hand back for another swing. This one was aimed for his midsection and was destined to disembowel him. Justin could feel the creature's claws grating against the bone in his leg, the sound and vibrations coursing from the wound to fill his head and cloud his mind with the immeasurable pain they brought with them. He heard the sound of his own screams joining in melody with those that already filled the room. The monster thrust its hand forward for the killing blow, its lips drawn back into a wicked sneer.

A crash erupted from behind Justin, showering him and the creature with shards of glass and building materials. A blast of frigid nighttime air swept through the room, snuffing out the small fire and plunging the room in almost total darkness. The room instantly became silent, the creatures all halting their struggles in order to peer into the darkness around them. Nothing moved, save for the chill night breeze that now flooded the room and rustled some of the trash that was strewn about. Justin could see nothing, since his eyes were still adjusting to the sudden lack of light in the room. He stood still, his body quivering slightly from the pain that the monster's tight grip on his leg inflicted on him.

Suddenly, a high pitched whirring sound filled the room. It had a fine metallic quality, like a perfectly balanced electric meat slicer in motion, and keened just on the edge of hearing. It was a melodious buzz that hummed at the edge of the senses, making it impossible to pinpoint the source. Almost in the same instant, there was a crackle of energy behind him, and a soft red glow painted the room in dim color. Justin could see all the creatures staring behind him, their bodies perfectly frozen and poised for action. He himself turned his head slowly to look. He could never have prepared himself for what he saw.

A man stood there, his silhouette framed by the gaping hole where the outside wall of the apartment had once stood. He was tall, very solidly built, and oddly enough was wearing what appeared to be a hooded cloak that covered most of his face and rustled slowly in the wind. Justin could make out his eyes, which glowed bright yellow in the dim light of the room. But it was what the man was holding in his outstretched hands the caught Justin off guard. It was a vicious-looking broadsword that had red energy dancing across its blade. The edges of the blade seemed blurry, and Justin's eyes could not find a definite edge. He realized then that the whirring sound that he was hearing was coming from that blade. That thing looked like it could cut through anything…

The man spoke from beneath the cowl.

"You have fought bravely, lawman. Your ancestors would be proud. But these beasts require a little more than a steadfast heart to kill. Leave them to me…"

Before the last syllable had been uttered, the man began to move. To say that he moved was to say that light moved or that lightning traveled. He flashed through the room, his movement unable to be tracked by the human eye. Justin simply beheld a tracing of red from the glow of the sword, like the afterimage from a flash, making its way towards him. With a roar, the creature that held him sprang into action. Justin suddenly felt himself being hurled through the air, the creature having thrown him at its enemy. The flash of red dodged his body, and he felt a kick land on his side, changing his course of flight and preventing him from flying out of the hole in the apartment wall two stories above the ground. He landed instead against the wall to one side, his wounded leg buckling and dumping him to the floor. His head began to swim and his vision blurred. This was no doubt thanks to his loss of blood and repeated impacts with solid objects. He fought to stay conscious…

The red flash by that time had reached the monster that had thrown him, and began tracing its way across the creature's limbs. Wherever that red light touched, a piece of the creature fell away. The red energy seemed to linger on the wounds, battling with the blue energy that would appear there. Each time, only red sparks would remain in the end, and what had been wounded remained so. In no time at all, the creature had been stripped of both legs and its right arm, blood disgorging from the clean cut stumps in a constant stream that pooled rapidly on the floor. Holding itself up with its only remaining limb, the monster looked into the face of the man that was now standing before it. The man was leaning on the now silent sword's hilt, the glowing blade sticking into the floorboards.

The man spoke once more.

"We meet again, Greindhaal. I see your battle prowess has yet to improve much since last we met on the field. It is a pity that you and your kind do not offer more sport. It has been ages since I have met one of your breed that could wind me."

The monster spat blood at the man's feet.

"As if, Ostrogaardian. Your kind has sated my hunger a hundred times past! Even if you kill me tonight, this night will be the last one your eyes behold, renegade… SHOOT HIM!"

The creature lunged forward, grasping the man's cloak with its remaining hand in an attempt to hold him still. The other Enforcers, those that still possessed arms, reached for their guns, which had been unneeded until that point. The man in the cloak grasped his sword's hilt once more, which brought the blade screaming back to life. With a sideways flick of the wrist, the blade seemed to eagerly bite into the creature's forearm, rending it from the body. The blade then twirled in the air, coming to rest at the back of the monster's neck, severing its head from the body. It rolled off into the night as the rest of the Enforcers brought their guns to bear. They all simultaneously cut loose a frenzied volley of automatic weapons fire, filling the air with screaming lead. In the dark, the glowing red blade made its way towards the line of gunners before it.

The night air began to sink into Justin's bones, and he could feel his body growing stiff and cold. He had lost too much blood, his wounds still leaking his life force onto the dingy apartment floor. Before he passed out, the last thing Justin saw was the cloaked man wading into a mass of gunfire, swinging that glowing red sword, while bullets ripped through his entire body. No man could survive that much firepower.

As his vision began to dim, Justin thought he could see a blue static forming within the bullet wounds of the man. No MAN could survive. But what if…?

He lost consciousness to the sound of gunfire, screams, and the ever present whine of that whirling blade…

To Be Continued…


End file.
